Ray of sunshine on a black day

He did manage a bit of a bop at the end, but otherwise it was difficult to imagine two more different days, really. Twelve months ago, Gordon Brown bounced (one imagines) out of bed in the happy knowledge that 65% of us thought he was a good bloke and would make a very fine prime minister. He went to see the Queen, and duly became PM. Then - remember? - he made that nervous, but oddly moving, little speech outside No 10, quoting his old school motto.

Yesterday, his first anniversary as the nation's leader, he awoke knowing that Labour had been beaten into fifth place in the Henley byelection by the BNP, and learned that about two-thirds of us think he's a liability to his party, which, we also believe, has little chance of winning the next election.

With an indubitably Brownian sense of occasion, the PM celebrated the end of his exciting first year in office yesterday by publishing a pamphlet on "the third stage of reform needed to achieve excellence and fairness in public services", and spent most of the rest of the day in Manchester with police community support officers and students. At least he got to link hands with his neighbours in the VIP stand and sing happy birthday to Nelson Mandela in Hyde Park in the evening.

Trying to escape momentarily from 365 days punctuated by natural disasters, an election that never was, atrocious opinion polls, even worse byelections, a catastrophic bank run, economic slowdown, a badly botched tax reform, rapidly soaring oil prices and steadily falling house prices, Brown began by seeking sanctuary once more in his school days.

In a tantalising glimpse of the man that might have been, he spoke of the eye surgery that saved his sight at the age of 16 - but let slip that impressive though the NHS op to reattach his retina was, it was not the surgery that made the biggest impression on him so much as the booze trolley that came around the wards afterwards.

"At the age of 16," the PM told the BBC, "when you know you've got a free health service and then when you're getting free beer, free Guinness and free wine, that's quite an amazing thing to happen."

Later, Brown spoke to police and residents at Manchester's Sale Moor Community Partnership about crime levels (falling, hurrah!), and to children from Lyme Tree primary school about football. And there came a rare ray of sunshine. "We shook hands and spoke man to man, like normal. He seemed a smashing bloke," said Graham Jervis, a local resident. "There used to be a lot of trouble round here. There's been a lot more money put in, they have regenerated. Everything is better now."

On to Hyde Park in London for the former African president's 90th birthday concert at about 8pm, neatly missing the mayor of London, Boris Johnson, by about 15 minutes. In an open-neck blue shirt and navy blue blazer, Brown looked almost, for a moment, relaxed. He shook hands, smiled and chatted to assorted VIPs' expensively dressed children.

He stood up and clapped along to Johnny Clegg . He even essayed a bit of a gentle hip swing for Eddie Grant's heartlifting Gimme Hope Jo'anna. And, led by master of ceremonies Will Smith, he belted out Happy Birthday with the best of them. Later, Mandela joined a plainly delighted PM in a small covered section of the stand, where both gave every appearance of listening intently to Amy Winehouse.

Earlier, the PM had said of what was probably a more joyful anniversary than his own: "We're particularly honoured that he'll be celebrating his birthday here in London." If a week's a long time in politics, how long's a year?